Easter. A holiday that always seems to bring both sorrow and joy. The old hymn says, "Did ever such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?" This year, the theme of our Good Friday service at church was called "Unresolved". I've realized that I find this concept to be very fitting. Throughout my life, I remember leaving Good Friday services feeling very strange. I sang some lovely songs, I remembered what Jesus did for me, but ultimately I left with a feeling of brokenness...a happy-sad kind of feeling.
This year, my husband and I purchased an Easter Lily to dedicate to the baby that we lost. I haven't been through a lot of loss in my life. Whenever there has been an opportunity to buy something "In memory of a loved one," I haven't really had any one in mind. I lost three of my grandparents, and one great-grandparent when I was very young, but I either never met them or barely knew them...therefore the concept of doing something "In Memory of" didn't ring very true for me.
On Wednesday of this past week, Josh and I went to the doctor's office for our first ultrasound of this pregnancy. The morning before the appointment, I was very emotional. We hadn't been to the doctor in about a month, and the time that we waited felt like an eternity. It was difficult to believe that the day had finally come, when we might see our baby for the first time. I was very excited, but very scared all at once...so many emotions crammed into my body that I thought I might explode. On that day, I found myself in tears for no reason at all, except that I was overwhelmed.
When we arrived, we were given a nurse that I had never had before...she was very new to the doctor's office. When we came in for her to run some tests, she asked if this was our first visit. I never know how to respond properly to those kind of questions, and so I often end up either lying or guilt-tripping an innocent person. This time it was the latter.
I tried to briefly share that this was our second pregnancy. She sat me down to take my blood pressure, and began to ask me about my first child.....Was it a boy or a girl? Etc. I had to break the news that we had a miscarriage. BAM! Guilt-tripped! The same thing that I had done to an unsuspecting co-worker who asked me if I was pregnant, because she noticed I'd put on some weight.
The poor nurse didn't know what to do. She just became very quiet, and later said, "Sorry, I'm new here." My husband and I both were in a strange place that day. Our emotions were running very high. I guess at the time I wasn't too keen on making polite conversation with her. Things were awkwardly silent after that, but I didn't really care because I preferred to sit and think.
Finally, they brought us in to see the doctor! I think she predicted our anxious state, because she didn't want to waste any time. Without so much as a "Hello, how are you," she was doing the ultrasound. The seconds that passed before we saw anything on the screen felt like hours, but the relief that followed was great. The first words from the doctor's mouth were, "Wow! That's a big baby!" That and the sound of the heartbeat that followed were the greatest music to an anxious mother's ears.
I think that even after it was over, we both felt very unusual. I can only speak for myself when I say that I had become a bit numb. I wanted to be crying tears of joy, but I think I had been trying to prepare myself for the worst and in doing so turned myself in to a bit of an emotionless wreck. Sure, I had emotions, but I found it tough to let go so that they would just wash over me and consume me.
I finally finished reading The Hunger Games series this week. Sometimes when I know something is about to be over for good, I think I try to slow the process down to make it last a little longer. I really didn't want it to be over. I wanted more. In reading it, I became very emotional as I often do at the end of books or movies. Women, I've heard, have a greater tendency to put themselves into the characters shoes, so that they really feel what the character is feeling. This time, I felt it on a whole new level.
I don't think I'm giving away any major plot by quoting this, so don't worry if you haven't read it. Towards the end, the main character, Katniss Everdeen says the following: "I'll tell them how I survive it. I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do." This thought really struck a chord with me.
It's awful really, the inability to take joy from life for fear of loss. I definitely don't think that it's God's intent for us. God knew that we would struggle with our brokenness, that we would feel great pain. Jesus himself felt that pain. Both the reality of loss, and the fear of loss. I don't believe, however, that God meant for any of us to remain broken. This is one of the reasons that He is constantly calling us back to His side.
How can we overcome our brokenness and our loss? Well, for starters, by reminding ourselves of all the blessings that God has put in our lives, of all the goodness that He has done for us and through us, of all the people who we care for and who care for us. After all, Good Friday was followed by Resurrection Sunday. The resolution did come. He rose again, and with that resurrection gave us all a chance for new life.
It's wonderful to share the excitement of a new baby with everyone in our lives! It's so great to post photos of the tiny child growing rapidly inside of me. Lovely to think about the future that we will have as parents, and to try to think through the details of it all. However, there are still days, "Happy-Sad Days," where all I want to do is grieve the baby that we lost. Sometimes I think about what our life would be like if I were still going to have that baby in my arms next month. If I were to be celebrating this Mother's Day with a new baby in my house.
I haven't seen the Easter Lily that we bought. I don't expect I will, and I'm not sure I want to. Josh and I both forgot to bring it home for some reason, and I expect it has gone to the home of an elderly shut in or someone in a nursing home. That's really a better place for it. Like the child it represents, I don't believe that it was ever meant to stay with us for long.
"O the wonderful cross, O the wonderful cross
Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live
O the wonderful cross, O the wonderful cross
All who gather here by grace draw near and bless Your name."
It has been "Resolved." "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners," (1 Tim 1:15), and His purpose has been fulfilled. "It is finished."
Happy Easter.
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